Teddy Lupin and the Fire-child
by lefrrf
Summary: The Second Wizarding war ended eleven years ago, and since then wizarding Britain has been at peace. But there is trouble afoot, those who had supported the Death-Eaters' ideals are once again rearing their heads. Amid an undercurrent of fear that a third war may be on the horizon, and mysterious whispers about a creature dead for centuries, Teddy Lupin must survive his first year.


_Teddy Lupin and the Fire-child_

Chapter 1

The Obliviators in the Classroom

Theodore Remus Lupin was not the most ordinary of children. For one, he had no parents. For another, he was a wizard. Not properly just yet, he still didn't have a wand or know any spells, but he could do some magic.

Like now, when he sat bored in a classroom listening to his history teacher drone on about something he knew he'd never need to know. Teddy sat in the back, drawing on the page he was meant to filling with notes about some dead king or another. He'd spent the better part of ten minutes sketching a sphere with wings. Now he stared at the page intently, not realising the bright golden colour his eyes had turned or the deep red that spread across his hair like blood.

Then, it happened, and Teddy had to struggle to contain his shout of joy. The little ball on the paper was now flapping its wings and flying around the page. Again, he didn't notice that his hair and eyes had changed colour, to an electric blue and bright green respectively. However, his teacher, Mrs Smith, did. The poor woman looked like she was going to have a heart attack. She stood there sputtering along the lines of "What!? How!? But that's not... How!?". Teddy's classmates, in contrast, either just stared, proclaimed it cool, called him a weirdo, or demanded to know how he'd done it.

This was really not good. Teddy knew that Harry, his godfather, would be furious. He was ten, eleven in two days, he should know better than to do magic in front of muggles, non magic people. But Harry would be even madder if Teddy didn't tell him himself. It wasn't like Harry wouldn't find out, he worked in the Ministry of Magic, and knew the Obliviators, the special teams of wizards whose job it was to make muggles forget incidents like this. So he stood up and went to the front of the classroom, where an old landline phone sat on the wall. Trembling slightly, he picked up the phone and started to dial a number he'd learnt by heart.

"This is the Ministry of Magic," a calm, female voice answered, "What is the purpose of your call?"

"Personal call for Harry Potter, Head of Aurors." Teddy answered, hoping that Harry was busy and he could just leave a message. He was vaguely conscious of the fact that everyone in the room was staring at him. It was, he supposed, a pretty unusual reaction to one's features changing.

"Mr. Potter will speak with you momentarily, please hold."

Feeling slightly awkward, Teddy decided to announce to the class that he was on hold. At this point, he'd stopped caring about the way his hair turned lime green and limp, telling anyone who knew him well that he felt guilty. Normally, he could control his changes, keeping his hair a sandy brown and his eyes a dull grey, the way he'd always guessed he really looked. Apparently, when he was trying to do magic, this was not the case. After he'd noticed that he'd changed in public he'd given up and let his emotions take charge of his looks. Now he wondered if it might be better if he looked 'normal' before Harry arrived.

A clicking noise from the phone broke his reverie, letting him know that Harry had answered.

"Hello, this is Harry Potter, who's calling?"

"Er, hi, Harry, it's Teddy..." All thoughts of appearing normal were forgotten as the colour drained from Teddy's face, hair and eyes, leaving them all white. This, he later thought, must either be his nervous look or his terrified look. He wasn't sure which.

"Yes, Teddy, what is it?" Harry sounded concerned. Teddy knew he wouldn't in a few seconds.

"I, um, I kind of..." Teddy desperately searched for a way to make it seem not so bad, "I sort of..." He gave up and said it all at once, "changedmyhairwithoutrealisin ginthemiddleofclassandeveryo nesawandnowthey'reallstaringatmepleasedon'thatemeIdidn'tmeanttoI'mreallysorryIam!"

A few seconds passed.

"What?" Rather than livid, Harry just sounded confused. "...Oh." It sounded like he'd realised. Harry sighed, "Where are you?"

"My history class, it's on the second floor, north east corner."

"Stay where you are, I'll be right there with the obliviators."

* * *

Teddy had never known his parents. They'd died not long after he was born. He knew they hadn't meant to, but sometimes he still resented it a little. Like now, when he sat with his Gran, who'd raised him, eating their dinner in perfect silence. Gran was like that when she knew that Teddy had done something wrong. She never yelled. She never lectured. She didn't cry or scream or glare. She just sighed and went on with her day, knowing full well that Teddy's guilt would do the punishing for her.

He hated that. He wished his parents were there to scold him and tell him how disappointed they were. Because then they could forgive him. They could punish him, and he'd stop punishing himself. It wasn't house-elf style punishment. Teddy didn't go beating his head against lamps or breaking fingers in drawers. He just denied himself things he liked. His Gran knew, but never questioned it. Sometimes, Teddy caught her looking at him with an inscrutable expression.

Harry had seemed disappointed, and had given him a lecture about how important it was he control his powers. He had said that his metamorphmagus abilities were a gift from his mother, and while he should be proud of what he was, displaying them in front of muggles was just stupid. Ginny, Harry's wife, couldn't be there in person. Instead, she sent a howler, which Gran promptly destroyed, responding to Harry's questioning look with, "I have a headache. Listening to your wife impersonate her mother is not high on my agenda."

After that they discussed what to do next. He wouldn't be going back to muggle school. Gran and Harry had agreed that it was too risky. Instead he'd stay at home until September, when he'd go to Hogwarts. Gran and Harry would teach him some of the basics, so he wouldn't be overwhelmed in the first few weeks. After that Harry had left, because James, his eldest son, had managed to get stuck up on top of a lamp post, and Ginny was too busy dealing with their younger son, who'd broken his arm falling down a flight of stairs.

Seeing as no punishment was assigned before Harry was called away, Teddy assigned one himself. He would not leave the little cottage he shared with his Gran, not until the first of September.

* * *

Except for one thing. He did allow himself one thing. Diagon Alley. To retrieve his school supplies. It had been March, one week since Teddy's eleventh birthday, when he'd received the letter informing him that he'd been accepted to Hogwarts and what books and supplies he'd need.

They'd arrived by floo. Teddy usually complained about travelling by floo, as he inevitably became covered with scrapes and bruises, courtesy of his clumsiness. But when they arrived, all his issues with floo travel were forgotten, along with any thoughts of punishment. He was completely absorbed in the wonder of it all, like he always was.

Teddy loved Diagon Alley. He loved the colour and energy and life of it. He loved the strangely dressed people and exotic goods in shop windows. He loved the way people crowded around Quality Quidditch Supplies, pining over the newest broomstick they almost certainly couldn't afford. He even liked Gringotts, with its rollercoaster-like cart rides and the goblins' black humour. But above all else, what he loved about Diagon Alley was that there was always something new and unexpected.

However, there had never been anything this unexpected before.


End file.
